


Age of Consent

by Lucy Gillam (cereta)



Series: Hanging Work [5]
Category: Batman (Comics)
Genre: Alternate Universe, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2011-03-01
Updated: 2011-03-01
Packaged: 2017-10-16 00:57:53
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,703
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/166732
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/cereta/pseuds/Lucy%20Gillam
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Two tickets to a circus never used, a little boy forgotten, and a chance meeting. Of such things are legends made. Part VI of the Hanging Work Series.</p><p>Not the kind of age of consent you think.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Age of Consent

The first thing Batman noticed about the figure walking across the roof of the Gotham City Museum of Art was the cat ears. He frowned, but was only mildly surprised. The last he had heard from or of Selina had been the graduation program that had finally made its way to him in July, and while he was not surprised that they had moved on from Santa Marta in the three months since (moving at the end of the school year having apparently become something of a ritual for them), he was surprised to see them, or at least her, back in Gotham.

Then again, he supposed an exhibit focusing entirely on cat sculpture was too much temptation to resist.

He carefully scanned the rest of the roof and what he could see of the building. No other figures in sight, although that didn't mean anything. From the few reports he'd had in the last year or so, they had worked separately as much as together, so it was a toss-up as to whether the boy was here or not. It would be wise to be on the look-out.

Catwoman was just about to cut the glass in the museum's atrium skylight when he landed next to her, not bothering to do so silently. She paused in her work, and from the tilt of her head, he knew she was smiling before he even saw her face.

"I suppose it was very predictable of me," she said without turning around. "But we all have our weaknesses."

She turned around. Her outfit had changed subtly, most markedly with the addition of high-tech goggles over the eyeholes of her mask.

"So," she asked, "do we start the chase now?"

Batman felt his jaw clench. No. It wasn't going to start this way. If she _was_ back in Gotham, even temporarily, they could not start with her thinking he would just ignore her activities.

She hadn't entirely let her guard down, and so when he dropped to sweep her feet from under her, she very nearly jumped out of the way. Not fast enough, though, and she landed with an almost delicate "oof." Batman took advantage, grabbing her wrist and twisting her around, keeping her feet from getting their purchase.

He saw the newcomer land on the roof just in time to duck, but the sweeping kick was high enough that he had to let go of Catwoman to dodge. He struck back reflexively, feeling his fist strike flesh, but not solidly. The figure stumbled back, but managed to roll back to a standing position easily.

"You know, it's generally agreed among the better class of people that roughing up women is a bad thing."

The grin was the same. He was taller, of course, and now on the other end of his adolescence, still showing signs of awkward growth, although his stance was perfectly balanced. His eyes were covered by goggles identical to Catwoman's, but there was no mistaking the spill of black hair. Or the grin.

"I treat all criminals equally."

The boy slowly tilted his head to the side. "Really? So if I were to…"

"Eyes, sweetie," Catwoman interrupted, minutes before a flash of light exploded between the two men. Batman realized what she meant just a half second before his own mask reacted to the glare, blocking out the worst of it. Still, for a few precious seconds, his sight was overtaken by red and purple blossoms of reactive color, and in those few seconds he heard the running footsteps of his quarry, each going in opposite directions.

Feeling a definite sense of déjà vu, he debated for one more moment whom to pursue. This time, he threw himself after the boy. Catwoman could wait.

Grayson's skills had improved, there was no question about that. The dazzling acrobatics were combined with a skilled use of the jumpline and increased strength, and without the element of surprise, Batman had to work just to keep up. Finally, nearly five blocks away from the museum, a perfectly aimed batarang caught the boy in the back of his knee, right where the joint would bend instinctively around the injury, and he tumbled to the roof. Before he could get back up, Batman moved to stand over him, placing a boot firmly in his midsection, not putting enough weight to hurt, but enough to keep him down.

"Okay, okay," the boy said, raising his hands as if in surrender, "I get the point. Staying down."

Batman looked down at the boy-- No, at Dick Grayson. He might not have used the name for some time, but it was his name. Batman had seen many pictures of the Flying Graysons in the weeks after their murder (and perhaps had revisited those pictures a time or two in the last four years), and he could see the shadow of the father in Dick Grayson's face.

Under normal circumstances, Batman would do one of two things at this point: he would either secure the criminal and let the police know where to find them (usually with evidence of their wrongdoing in plain sight), or frighten them sufficiently that he could be fairly certain they wouldn't be committing more crimes any time soon.

There was little point in calling the police now. While the boy was clearly up to no good, and had been trespassing moments ago, even Gotham judges weren't willing to take an intervention by Batman as sufficient evidence of wrongdoing.

That left frightening him...which hadn't gone so well last time.

Clearly, starting with intimidation was the better strategy.

He leaned a little more firmly on Grayson's midsection. "Museums don't get robbed in my city."

"Really? I thought I read something last year about some plants being stolen from the Natural oof…" The boy winced as Batman pressed a little harder. "Right. No museum robberies in Gotham. Any chance you'd let me breathe?"

Batman stepped back far enough to let the boy up, but not far enough to let him get comfortable. Grayson lay there and coughed a bit, still seeming a bit winded, and so Batman was taken by surprise when his own legs were swept out from under him by the same move he'd used on Catwoman just minutes before.

Richard Dragon. The boy had learned well.

He managed to roll into his fall and aim a kick of his own at Grayson's leg as he tried to stand, bringing him back to his knees. He grabbed the boy's shirt, hauling them both to their feet.

"This isn't a game," he growled. "You're not a child anymore!" The irony of that particular statement, given the last time they were in this situation, did not escape him, and he released Grayson with a hard shove.

It apparently didn't escape the boy, either. "And bad things will happen to me if I get caught?" he asked with a smile. "Yeah, I got the 'can be tried as an adult' speech six months ago. Well aware, thanks." He brushed some of the dirt from the rooftop off his clothes. "Is this where you tell me I have choices?"

"You do," Batman said, wondering how it was this boy made him feel off-balance every time they met, even if "every time" was only three. "You could go to college," he added. "You had the grades."

The grin widened. "I'd be flattered you were paying so much attention if I didn't know Selina sent you my graduation program. She never could resist an opportunity to gloat. I thought it was asking for trouble, myself."

"It doesn't bother you at all, stealing from other people? Do you think this is what your parents would have wanted for you?"

Dick looked away out over the city, chewing his lower lip the same way he had on another rooftop four years ago. Batman resisted the temptation to press.

Finally, the boy looked back. "How do yours feel? About your choices, I mean."

Batman felt his stomach tighten and his fists clench, but he managed to stop the instinctively threatening step forward. "That's different."

"Oh? I mean, yeah, okay, you put guys like me in jail, but you are breaking the law. And it's not exactly _normal_ , is it? It's not all those choices you want me to consider, all those things you want me to leave her on her own to go do. You can't tell me it's something parents would be thrilled about."

Batman tried not to think about Alfred's pointed comments and Leslie's disappointed looks. "It's different," he repeated.

"If you say so." Grayson shrugged. "I should go find her. Make sure she's not hurt," he added with the faintest hint of accusation. "Unless you're planning to turn me in for unauthorized wearing of a mask."

Now Batman did take a step forward, using the full advantage of his height. "Don't let me catch you again."

Even before the boy laughed, he realized it had not, perhaps, been the best choice of words.

"Wasn't planning on it!" His departure was almost insultingly unhurried, a toss of a jumpline and a swing to a lower building.

Batman returned to the museum. He doubted that Catwoman would return, at least not tonight, and she might decide the risk was too great now to attempt again. Still, it would be worth alerting the museum to step up security. Given the boy's obvious loyalty to his mentor, he might try something just to please her.

That loyalty was obvious, even in their brief exchange. It...complicated matters. The boy was still young enough to change, could still be persuaded to give this up, but persuading him to leave Selina would be more difficult. Perhaps it had been a mistake to leave him with her in the first place.

But it might not be too late. Grayson didn't have an official police record yet. There had been suspicions, and any connection between him and Catwoman's unnamed partner would surely bring down even more (they had been careful to cover their tracks, but the tracks were there), but right now, it wasn't too late.

And if this possibility seemed strangely important... he tried to not think about why.  



End file.
